


Boughs: A Compilation of Poems

by Chrysanthemia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fallen Angels, Falling In Love, Gen, Love Poems, Multi, Poetry, Rain, Rebirth, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:04:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysanthemia/pseuds/Chrysanthemia
Summary: Just a bunch of poems I want to write out from time to time! No particular, overarching theme; just unadulterated idea slinging.





	1. You are the Heavens

_ . . ._

I hold the brilliant sun that knows not  
of its own light, the breath  
of countless stars, enough  
to weave a new heaven

Take my hand as I fall deeper  
into the sky of fluttering butterflies  
farther and beyond the seas  
of unmoving earth

A labyrinth with all the exits  
yet my feet are roots  
of the tree I grew in this place,  
salient freedom, and my self-imposed exile

Pulling at pulsing strings,  
as they turn into cold manacles  
Don't look back, I am here  
where I know you can't reach me

When did your light turn into licking flames  
when did my wings turn into lead  
when did I make you into my warden  
in this prison you and I never made

Breathe, the ash and soot  
See, beyond hazy eyes

Walking the soft earth once more  
with clipped wings yet stronger steps

Look to the skies above and see  
the blazing sun beyond my reach

No longer will I wish upon your stars  
For they are yours to wield

But I will always feel your warmth,  
so if you can spare just one wish,  
I hope that you will feel it too.

_ . . ._


	2. No Longer

_ . . ._

Shatter the pristine vase of an empty   
gallery, let it sing the woes   
of a broken serenity   
and its lost vanity

From clay you rose, and to ash you fall   
Stain me with the colors of humanity   
let the stark white become   
the very dirt you walk upon 

Hands clasped over the chest of blossoming   
crimson plumes, pierced through   
by glass arrows and rose thorns  
a human heart   
  
Melt away the wings that remind  
of a time that I flew above all else  
soaring through the heavens   
of wispy clouds and shimmering stars  
  
I no longer bear the shining halo   
of the purehearted and   
the eyes of a child   
that saw no evil   
  
The light became flames to   
burn away Cupid's barbed arrows  
  
The wounds of torn wings  
a reminder of Icarus's folly   
  
And the colors of man, a testament that  
I am no longer immortal

_ . . ._


	3. Anathema

_ . . ._

Your wings are lead and wax  
Melt, break away, fall apart  
lay bare what lies far beneath, you  
who is more than flesh and bone

Your skin is marble and glass  
Dare the stars 'round you to shatter  
every piece of you till there is none  
but shards to be scattered in winds

Your blood is phosphorus and sulfur  
Now bathe in the flames that dwell  
in every pulsing vein, the final  
breaths of a tar-smothered heart

Leave, the heavens you called home  
Utopian walls of ivory, silk and gold  
crowns of diamonds and pearls  
lit by the holy sun's rays

Reach further, fall beneath clouds  
down to embrace the red mud and brown lakes  
Bleed on jagged stone, trickles down  
becoming one with the land's colors

Borne from heat, now forged in heat  
be seared by pain, savor the rush  
of tears you never shed in comfort  
and a thousand needles thrust

Let stale airs escape through gritted teeth  
take in grey ash, now heave  
frail lungs, once, twice  
thrice, struggle till unstifled

Now stand above it all  
the you that tattered and frayed  
the you that fell from unchanging grace  
the you that bled before a merciless land

Now stand before you  
the soul broken  
the soul hardened  
the soul reborn

_ . . ._


	4. Under Gray Clouds

_ . . ._

The raindrops sing a song for no one else  
a growing melody, it tells  
of another hour under the blue  
cascade, wishing it weren't true

Soaked from head to toe  
my misfortunes filed in a row  
They flew by like a passing week  
back-to-back, until they sprung a leak

Would dancing in the rain  
wash away the mud stains  
on this white shirt, only fit  
for a sunlit sky with clouds adrift

Or is it better to head home  
taking the fast path, to not roam  
and turn on the shower, let the water run  
sleep until woken by the sun

I would wake up to the same dawn  
with the yellow curtains always drawn  
Only, I'd have a different memory  
on how I wrote yesterday's story  
  
Would I wait to see the rainbow  
or dream of it in a far-away tomorrow

_ . . ._


End file.
